Getting Through Today
by sweeet-as-honey
Summary: Ethan has to attend the funeral of a friend who died far too young. Cal and Ethan can't help but think of Ethan's diagnosis and the chances that he will die too young too. Set during the Holby City episode Missing You Already (16.06.16).
1. Chapter 1

_I wanted to write something based on Ethan's appearance in his second Holby City episode (Missing You Already) as I think it could have stirred up some emotion for him and for Cal. I've written two chapters, but I'm going to rewrite the second as I think it's too similar to my other stories and I'd like to take it in a slightly different direction._

* * *

Cal knocked on the bathroom door. "Hurry up, Ethan! We're going to be late!"

Ethan checked his appearance in the bathroom mirror. Every hair was in place and his tie looked straight, but Ethan still felt there was something wrong.

He examined his face carefully, aware of Cal's repeated knocks and demands to hurry up.

It was his eyes. They were sad and sombre as you might expect, but there was something else in them. Something which Ethan really hoped no-one else would notice.

Hopelessness.

The undeniable fact that one day, he would be the young man who was taken from his friends too soon.

"ETHAN!" shouted Cal from outside the door. He was actually sounding worried now. "Are you okay?"

Ethan sighed and turned slowly away from the mirror. He unlocked the door. "Sorry, Cal."

Cal looked him up and down. "Why are you wearing that to work?"

"I'm not going to work," said Ethan quietly.

"What? Why not?"

It wasn't a stupid question on Cal's part. Ethan hadn't told him when the funeral was. It had been difficult enough telling Cal that Arthur had died. Ethan hadn't referred to it since. He didn't think he could.

"Ethan?" said Cal, confusion and concern on his face. He put his hands gently on Ethan's shoulders. "Ethan, where are you-"

He stopped and sadness came into his eyes. Ethan knew at once he'd guessed.

"Arthur's funeral," said Cal. His voice was quiet, but there was something in it that made Ethan tense.

"Yes," said Ethan, his voice little more than a whisper as he forced it out past a wodge of emotion.

Cal nodded slowly. "So, you are actually going."

"Of course I'm going," said Ethan, his voice strained. "He's my friend."

It was Cal's turn to look emotional now. His eyes looked bright and he pressed his lips together, perhaps in an attempt to stop them from shaking, but he was unable to hide the tremor in his voice. "Emilie was our mum."

Ethan had known Cal would think it. He even guessed Cal was going to say it, but he wasn't prepared for the force of the words on his emotions. He reeled away from Cal's words and ran. He heard Cal call his name as he wrenched open the door, but he slammed it closed without responding. He hurried into the lift and pressed the button for the ground floor several times in a desperate attempt to make the doors close before Cal could reach him.

At last, they slid shut with a click and the lift began its descent. Ethan closed his eyes, his breath coming in little gasps which he knew came from emotion rather than exertion. He didn't feel angry with Cal because Cal was right. Emilie was his mother and Ethan hadn't been at the funeral.

He didn't feel angry with _Cal_.

The lift hit the bottom floor with a clunk. Ethan stumbled out and left the building. He got into the car and drove off, but he parked around the corner, taking his glasses off and letting his head sink into his hands.

He hated himself.

He hated himself for (probably) being able to go to Arthur's funeral when he couldn't go to Emilie's.

He hated himself for even thinking about that now, when his mind should be focused only on one person.

Ethan sat up, removed his glasses and wiped the tears from his eyes. He knew no-one would mind or even be surprised if he arrived with red eyes, but the last thing he wanted or deserved was sympathy. Today was for Arthur and Morven. Not Ethan.

His time would come.

* * *

Ethan sat in a pew several rows from the front and looked ahead of him, hoping his glasses would hide the tears in his eyes.

Arthur had battled through so many problems, including a panic disorder and uncertainty about his career. He'd come through all that and was feeling positive about his future and he'd finally found someone special to share his life with.

Then it had all been taken away from him.

Some would point out that at least Arthur had died happy and loved, but Ethan could take no consolation from that. Happy and loved was better than unhappy and unloved (or was it? Would being unhappy and unloved have made it easier to say goodbye?), but it was still too soon.

Much, much too soon.

Ethan was likely to have another thirty years at least, but Arthur had been given months and in the end had only got weeks. Ethan found his hands had clenched into fists. Somehow, he resisted the urge to drive them into the pew in front. What had happened to Arthur was so unfair. It was wrong. It shouldn't have been allowed to happen. How could there not be a cure after all this time?

Of course, some people didn't even have weeks. Ethan had seen it in the ED far too many times and knew he'd seen it many times more. A life could be lost with no warning. One single moment of bad luck and then it was over.

Ethan blinked hard. Why did life have to be so cruel?

Ethan heard a shrill sound not far from him. It seemed familiar, but in his emotional state, it sounded more like a heart monitor. The monitor Arthur had been on before he…

No. It wasn't that. It was a pager. Ethan couldn't just hear it now: he felt the vibration inside his jacket. He took it out and whispered an apology as he looked to see who was paging him.

He knew already, of course. Only one place was likely to page him.

The ED. They needed him.

Ethan wondered what to do. He couldn't leave. He couldn't walk out of a funeral, not even to help ensure that another group of friends and family wouldn't be in the same devastating position as he was now. He couldn't stand up and walk out, followed by the accusing eyes of the other mourners.

But he also couldn't let his colleagues down. They needed him. There were people either at the ED or on their way to it who needed Ethan to save their lives. He could do nothing for Arthur now and he doubted he could say the right things to Morven. He would be of much more use in the ED. He had to go.

But he couldn't leave. He'd missed the chance to say goodbye in person. Their last conversation had been a brief, snatched exchange as they passed in the corridor, while Arthur was on the phone. They hadn't known that would be the last time. They hadn't known that was their chance to say goodbye.

So Ethan had to stay.

Didn't he?

The decision was taken from him when the sound of another pager filled the air, followed by another, then another. As the sounds rose to a cacophony, guilty, uncertain glances were exchanged, before one member of the congregation took control and stood up, striding purposely towards the exit. Others stood up and slowly followed. Ethan sat for a moment in frozen indecision and then he stood up too.

* * *

The cool air hit him hard in the face, telling him firstly how hot it had been in the church and secondly that he'd really done this. He'd walked out of his friend's funeral. One of his closest friends.

 _But I had to_ , Ethan told himself as he got into one of the cars and was driven back to the hospital. _I had no choice. The ED needs me. There's nothing I can do for Arthur now. It's too late._

Ethan hurried through the doors of the ED, manoeuvred his way around the trolleys containing the first of the casualties and made his way quickly towards the staff room.

Nobody commented on his sudden appearance. In the case of a major incident, the doctors on call were always asked to join the team, enabling them to work faster and help more people. Ethan had even been known to come in when he wasn't on call.

Even so, they would normally have made some comment on Ethan's decision to wear a suit on his day off. The fact they didn't showed how serious the incident was. This realisation lessened Ethan's guilt momentarily, then it returned tenfold because there was nothing good about what had happened. Ethan would rather have been laughed at and ridiculed for his attire, with a video posted on facebook and twitter, than see what was likely to happen in the next few hours.

He took his scrubs from his locker and began to get changed. He heard footsteps and knew someone had entered the room behind him, but he didn't look to see who it was. It wasn't important. Ethan needed to do his job.

Then the person spoke. "You are unbelievable."

Startled, Ethan turned to face his brother. His scrub top fell to the floor. "Excuse me?"

"Ethan, it's your mate's funeral. You should be there. Remembering. Supporting his family. And instead, you're _here_?"

"I got called in," said Ethan.

Cal shook his head in disbelief. "You were _on call_ at your friend's funeral?"

More guilt crowded into Ethan's head. "Half the congregation were on call!" he said defensively.

"Most of the congregation would have been from Keller or Darwin," said Cal. "They wouldn't have had a choice. Some of them would have to have made themselves available." Cal looked upset. "But _you_ didn't need to be, Ethan! You're the only person from the ED who went. I'm sure Connie would have been happy, even at short notice, to put someone else on call instead and let you mourn your friend." His voice hardened. "But you didn't ask her to do that, did you?"

Ethan looked down at his smart funeral shoes and didn't tell Cal that he wouldn't have dared ask a favour like that of Mrs Beauchamp. It might be true, but it was also irrelevant. That wasn't the real reason why he hadn't asked. He knew the real reason and so did Cal. He'd swapped his shift because he'd had to, but he'd also made sure he was on call because… because…

"Is it going to be like this for every funeral you attend, Ethan?" Cal was almost shouting now. "You can't bear to give anyone the send-off they deserve because it reminds you of your problems? And you always say I'm the selfish one!"

"No, it's not like that," Ethan choked out.

"Maybe it's a good thing that I'm likely to outlive you," said Cal. "You'll have the perfect excuse for missing my funeral if you're…" Cal stopped. A shocked look came to his face and he reached out his hand. "Ethan… I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

Ethan turned his back on him. Slowly and deliberately, he finished dressing and walked out of the staff room, leaving Cal still standing there, a devastated look on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for all the amazing reviews of the first chapter. It really was so lovely. I only hope Chapter 2 lives up to expectations. This is the last chapter, though if you have any ideas for continuing the story, I will always consider them, though I can't promise anything._

 **LittleBritishPerson** , thank you for your review. I'm glad you liked the first chapter. As incredibly moving as the episode was, I couldn't help wondering about Ethan and what might have happened to him offscreen. Losing Arthur must be devastating anyway, but I think it would be impossible for Ethan to forget his own situation.

 **X-Sammii-X** , the last few episodes about Arthur's illness and death really were emotional. I tend to think Holby City isn't as good as Casualty, but the episode where Arthur died really was incredible. Funerals are always difficult and there are so many other emotions mixed in for Ethan. Thank you for your review.

 **ETWentHome** , thank you for your review. I'm so happy you like the way I wrote it. I'm sure if anyone else was in Ethan's situation, he would understand their feelings, but he's much tougher on himself. I think perhaps he puts a lot of pressure on himself to feel what he ought to feel and that makes things even worse.

 **Teeloganroryflan** , yes, there is more! One more chapter. Thank you for your review - I'm really glad you like it and I hope I can keep at least some of the intensity going through this chapter. Cal didn't exactly approach the situation in the best possible way! He'll try to do better in this chapter.

 **CBloom2** , thank you for your review - I'm so glad you like it, especially as your story about Ethan dealing with Arthur's death was so moving. I'm so glad you think I got the emotions right - it's so difficult to predict how someone will react in a situation like this and there's so much more to it than losing a friend.

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan** , thank you for your review. I really like that you have sympathy for Cal as well as for Ethan - although it's Ethan's friend who's died and Ethan who has Huntington's, this is incredibly tough on Cal too.

 **Tanith Panic** , the Holby City writers might have intended for Ethan to leave the funeral due to dedication for his job, but I had to add a little more drama! I'm glad it's clear Cal was tactless because he was so upset. I think it really hurt him that Ethan didn't attend Emilie's funeral. Cal really loved Emilie and he was desperate for Ethan to love her too. Thank you for your review.

 **Becs2202** , I was thinking a lot about Ethan during the episode too - Arthur's death was certain to have a particularly big impact on Ethan and I hoped they might show some of that. Knowing Cal and Ethan, there's probably a lot they haven't talked about and a lot of emotions inside both of them. Thank you for your review.

 **Guest** , thank you for your review. I'm so glad you enjoyed the story and felt the emotions I was trying to convey. I have read a couple of brilliant stories about Ethan's reaction to Arthur's death, but nothing about the funeral episode, though perhaps I've just missed them. I hope you'll like this chapter too.

 _Thank you to **X-Sammii-X** , **ETWentHome** , **Strizzy** and **s1436229** for the follows and favourites._

* * *

Cal tried to keep track of Ethan, but it was impossible. There were too many patients. There were patients in corridors; patients sharing cubicles; patients in Resus relying on portable equipment. Cal hadn't forgotten the last time Ethan had had a day like this and it gave him another reason to look out for his brother, but there was no time to have a break. No time even to stop; to breathe. Even Cal's thoughts of Ethan were only fleeting because another patient always needed him urgently, but the thoughts kept on coming back.

How could he have said that to him?

Cal still believed there was some truth in it, but it wasn't selfishness that caused Ethan to think like that. It was fear: complete and utter terror of what lay ahead. It consumed you; it seeped into every pore and it raced through your head, each thought too wild and fast to be caught and calmed.

Of course Ethan was terrified of dying. Of course the death of a young friend of around Ethan's own age would intensify these feelings. Just as the funeral of a mother who'd suffered the same condition would have done.

The hours passed. Some patients were saved; others sent upstairs to be treated by Arthur's grieving colleagues. Others never got to go anywhere again.

At last, things seemed to be calming down. Cal decided he could justify a break. He was desperate for a coffee but more desperate to find Ethan. He went to Resus, arriving just in time to see Ethan emerge from the double doors.

He didn't seem to see Cal. He stopped, removed his glasses and brushed his other hand under both eyes.

"Ethan." Cal hurried towards him. "What happened?"

"Nothing," said Ethan, his eyes filling again.

Cal put his arm around Ethan, his heart aching as Ethan wiped his eyes again. "Come on. Let's go and have a break."

"I've got to keep going," whispered Ethan, though he made no attempt to move away from Cal, and Cal couldn't help but wonder if Ethan was really talking about work.

"No, you haven't," said Cal. "Things have calmed down a bit now. And there's something I need to say to you."

Ethan made no further protests. Cal would have been relieved, but as he felt Ethan's sluggish movements and saw the droop of his shoulders, he knew Ethan was only silent and acquiescent because he had no energy to be anything else.

Cal felt his throat clogging with emotion. "I know it hurts, Ethan. I wish there was something I could say. Something I could do. I know nothing is going to make this better. Nothing but time. But I'm going to be here for you, Ethan. I'm going to help you through this. I know I can't take this away from you, but you're not going through any of this alone."

Everyone they passed turned to look at Ethan in concern. Rita took a step towards them, her hands held out as she tried to offer consolation, but Cal shook his head, grateful for her instinctive desire to help but knowing it wasn't a good idea. Robyn tried to do the same, but David, who was standing beside her, caught her arm and gave her a significant look. When they reached the staff room to discover Jacob in conversation with Elle, they both caught Cal's eye and immediately left Cal and Ethan alone. Cal nodded his thanks.

Cal sat beside Ethan on the sofa and tried to put his jumble of emotions into words. "Ethan, I'm so sorry for what I said to you. It was uncalled-for and insensitive. I don't know what you're thinking because you're not telling me. You're keeping it all inside, smiling happily at the world as you drink and dance and joke and generally behave nothing like the brother I thought I knew. But that's okay. If it's what you want, then it's what I want too. I want you to get through this and be happy."

Ethan clung tightly to Cal's shoulders, but Cal didn't care. If ever Ethan needed someone to hold on to, if was now… but it occurred to Cal that Ethan hadn't really held on to anyone before. He'd always stayed so strong for their adoptive mother, Matilda. He'd never cried in front of Cal, though perhaps that was because Cal had hardly been there. When he'd found out about Emilie, he'd again been alone because Cal had betrayed him by keeping so big a secret from him. Then, finally, when Ethan was allowing himself to trust Cal again, the results had come. And they could not have been more devastating.

"No," said Ethan softly as he finally lifted his head. There were no tears in his eyes, but there was pain. "You were right. I am selfish. I didn't attend Mum's funeral because I was thinking of myself and that's something I'll always regret. I didn't want to attend Arthur's funeral for the same reason."

"But you went," said Cal.

Ethan's expression was bleak. "I went, but then I left. I had no way of knowing what would happen today. I knew the chances were I wouldn't be called in. But I swapped shifts with someone who was on call for a reason. I wanted an escape route and that was all I could think of."

His voice trembled violently and Cal hurriedly put his arm around his brother. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

"It's not," said Ethan with a sad smile. His eyes were glistening once more. "I am a coward, Cal. I didn't want to face anything that made it more real. I thought if I could hide from anything connected to it, then maybe it wouldn't be true anymore."

"Ethan, it's okay to feel like that. It's understandable."

"But it's not okay to act on those feelings – or not act on them, in my case." Ethan's voice was calm now, but Cal could almost feel the effort it took to hold on to his composure.

"It's not that easy," said Cal.

"It's not easy, certainly," agreed Ethan. "But the way I behaved was still selfish. Mum deserved better. Arthur deserved better. His wife and friends deserved better." There was a pause and Ethan lifted his head. "You deserved better, Cal."

Cal looked at him in confusion. "You've done nothing wrong, Ethan. You might not have been at Mum's funeral, but you'd had a terrible shock. A shock that Mum understood better than anyone. But I'm sure she was in your thoughts that day. That's the important thing. That you were thinking of her."

"I was," whispered Ethan. "I was in a cheap little hotel room. I sat on the floor and cried. I wished I'd known Mum better. I wished we hadn't lost her so soon. Someone came in to clean my room and she spoke to me. I think she wanted to help, but I couldn't speak. In the end, she touched my shoulder and went away. She didn't clean my room. I think she knew I needed to be alone."

Cal nodded, grateful someone had shown Ethan kindness when he'd needed it. "You were thinking of Mum, Ethan, and I'm sure she knew that."

"But I need to start thinking of other people," said Ethan. "It's horrible knowing I have Huntington's. That I won't have the long career I dreamed of. That getting married and having children has become even more unlikely than it was before. That I'll need other people to care for me, perhaps in as little as ten years. But I'm not the only person who's suffering, Cal. Arthur's death has touched so many people. I should have focused more on them and less on myself."

He stopped, took a shaky breath and gave Cal a small smile of gratitude when Cal squeezed his shoulder supportively.

"And I should have focused more on you." Ethan's eyes moistened again. "I'm not the only one affected by all this. You lost Mum too. You'd been caring for her. You knew her so much better than I did. You've found out your little brother has Huntington's and I can't imagine how that must feel."

"I feel... guilty," said Cal honestly. "I feel like it should have been me. I wanted it to be me. Because then it wouldn't be you."

A sob escaped Ethan's lips. "I was so afraid you did. But you shouldn't feel guilty, Cal. You were born and you were clear. There was still a 50% chance for me. There was as much chance of me being a girl than there was of having Huntington's. Or almost. I think only 48% of births are female."

Cal's eyes filled. How typical of Ethan not only to know that but to bring it into the conversation now.

"Don't cry," whispered Ethan, as a tear slipped down his own cheek. "You have nothing to feel guilty for. I can't blame you for feeling like that and the way I behaved can't have helped. But I'm going to do better now. I'm not going to forget you're going through something terrible too. I'm going to be a better brother and a better friend."

Cal shook his head and wiped his eyes. With an effort, he regained control. "You couldn't be a better brother, Ethan. I wouldn't swap you for anyone. Unless swapping you meant you didn't have the gene anymore."

Ethan looked at him for a moment. His expression held wonder, but perhaps not surprise. Then he threw his arms around Cal and hugged him tightly.

"Whoa… Ethan!" said Cal, struggling to breathe, but he didn't push Ethan away. He held him just as tightly.

"Thank you," said Ethan. "For being here. For listening."

Cal laughed shakily. "But as usual, I've completely failed at making you feel better."

Ethan sat back. There were tears on his cheeks, but he was smiling as he wiped them. "No. You did make me feel better. You helped me to realise. And you were here."

"Of course I was," said Cal. "And now I'm going to take you home."

Ethan shook his head. "I'm not going home. Unless you need me."

"No, Ethan, you can't carry on working!" Cal was aghast. "Everything's calmed down now. We can manage."

"I know," said Ethan. "Mrs Beauchamp told me to go anyway."

"Then I'll take you home," said Cal, but Ethan shook his head.

"No, Cal. I'm going to the wake. I need to say goodbye to Arthur and spend time with the people who loved him."

Cal looked at him doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"I'll be okay," said Ethan. "I need to do this – and I want to. But…" He broke off, a pleading expression in his eyes.

"You want me to go with you?" said Cal. He didn't really know Arthur, but if Ethan needed him...

Ethan shook his head. "I was just wondering if… if you'd be there when I got home?"

"I'll be there," said Cal. "And if you need to call me, I'll be there. If you need to come home early; if you do need me there after all – whatever you need to help get you through, I'll be there, Ethan."

"And I'll be there too, Cal," promised Ethan, his eyes bright with tears but determined. "I always will be. Whenever and whatever you need. It's tough for us both and I will do my best to remember that. But we'll get through this together."


End file.
